


Defanged

by TheRoarOfAtlas



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Breast Fucking, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Intercrural Sex, Mandalorian, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Sex Pollen, Sex Work, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoarOfAtlas/pseuds/TheRoarOfAtlas
Summary: What’s this?! More sex pollen?! You bet your butt. This is not related to Of Gorgons And Gardens, but it does utilize the same fictional plant. A bit of a different spin on things.[x-posted to Tumblr]Enjoy!
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 152





	Defanged

**Author's Note:**

> [!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains obligatory dubious consent due to sex pollen, recreational drug usage, sex work and multiple orgasms. Stay safe!]

Your place of work was notorious, both for its locale and the main attraction. Nestled in the thick, vinous growth of a carefully-cultivated Serpentia garden, the Sunset Stamen was a cunning endeavor by several casino tycoons. 

The creation of a lesser strain of Serpentia ( _dubbed Serperseus_ ) had given rise to establishments like your own. " _Medusa, defanged_ " was the tagline for the watered-down aphrodisiac, which became immensely popular in various black markets nearly overnight. With that popularity came customers, and with customers came credits. 

And that's how you had found yourself working at a not-quite-legal Serperseus den. Debts needed to be paid and honestly, the gig wasn't _incredibly_ difficult. Bad nights came with the good, but the good nights paid so well they nearly outweighed the bad. Management kept you clean and medicated, and the customers kept you fed.

This had been your existence for a multitude of cycles, until one particular night...

...

"Welcome to the Sunset Stamen!" You chirped in your best 'customer service' voice. "How may I be of assistance?"

You saw all kinds of people in your line of work. Gungans, Pau'ans, Wookies, even a Hutt or two on _very_ rare occasions. Most of your clientele came from the local casinos, already well in their cups and eager to spend more for a taste of the forbidden. 

However, you had never seen a _Mandalorian_ inside your establishment.

Currently, the Mandalorian appeared to be ignoring you, as they had given no indication of hearing your greeting. First timers tended to either be extremely giggly or awestruck by the tasteful decor, so you usually gave them the benefit of the doubt. 

You slid the tray of seven pucks forward on the counter, tapping a button on your tablet to activate their various holo displays. "These are the individuals who are currently available. May I ask what you would care to indulge in?"

Rarely, there would come the clients who just wanted to get blitzed and be left to their own devices. Sometimes people would bring their own partners as well, which led to extra consent forms having to be signed and co-signed. It was tedious, but security and safety were an enormous priority when maintaining the Sunset Stamen's _sterling_ reputation.

The Mandalorian jerked at the sound of your voice, almost as if they had forgotten you were there. "Indulge?"

Ah, _masculine_ . Rough and filtered through the modulator of the distinctive helmet, but unmistakable. You nodded, gesturing to the small holographic displays in front of you. Various species were available as ever, each one listing their dimensions and specialties. Your own was among them, naturally. Working the front desk _did_ have its perks, in that it usually secured you at least one appointment per evening. "Yes, sir. Here at the Sunset Stamen, your wildest dreams can finally come true."

He scoffed at that. "I doubt it." You saw his hand trembling when he raised it to touch one of the pucks. "What are these?" 

"An indicator of goods and services that will be delivered to you upon payment." You replied smoothly. 

"What kind of _services?_ " 

You tapped on the first puck, bringing up an enlarged display. "You can go through each available individual and see whether they have what you would like, or I can have someone hand-picked for your tastes called in for a minimal extra charge."

The Mandalorian didn't acknowledge you again, scrolling slowly through the list of the first individual's options in total silence. He then moved on to the second. Your puck was the third, and he seemed to go through the list even _slower_. "What is the normal dosage?" He asked gruffly.

"Our usual concentration for first-time clients is half strength, but we do also offer various baths and oil treatments."

"How _much_ though. Volume." He sounded cross now.

"Oh! Apologies, sir." Your tablet under the counter made a reappearance and you brought up the full menu of dosage strengths for him to check over. Maybe you were being presumptuous when you assumed he was a first timer?

" _Osi'kyr_ ," the gravelly tone gave you goosebumps, "so I'm deep in this. I was...I'm a bounty hunter by profession. Came after a bounty and he lost me in the casino. I bumped into a Wookie carrying a poorly-latched camtono of this serpent _crap_. A lot of it seeped through my flight suit." A gloved hand waved at the interior of the lobby. "I was instructed to come here because according to the front desk of the casino, you can help me."

"Well, that is not an _incorrect_ statement," you began tentatively. "However, I assume this is not _quite_ the help you had in mind."

He simply grunted in reply, then sighed. He still hadn't moved on from your puck, fingers nervously tapping the counter as he appeared to scrutinize every minute detail about your body, your specialties and your limits. "This is you?" He queried after a moment, his helmet tilting slightly upwards.

"Yes sir. Flaws and all." He scoffed again, and you were a _little_ unsure what to make of that. Was he mocking you?

"Alright." He said finally, tapping the checkmark next to your profile. 

"Excellent! If you could just read through these rules, enter in your chit code and then sign off right down here, we can get started. Of course we'll waive the usual dosage fee, as you are here premedicated."

He filled out his information silently, leaving all optional areas blank. His signature was simply ' _Mando_ '.

…

"Is this your first time with a Serperseus experience, sir?" You asked blithely as the two of you made your way to the room he had selected. 

The Mandalorian (who you had dubbed Mando for brevity in your head) growled, "I'm a _Mandalorian_ , what good would something like this even do me?"

"Help rebuild your species!" was your pragmatic answer while punching in the room code. You heard him huff a second later.

"True enough, I suppose." A heavy sigh. "I'll apologize in advance, it's been...a while." He didn't clarify and you didn't ask, well-used to the fragmentary truths you would hear from clients in the grasp of the serpent. 

The door to the chamber slid open in front of the two of you and you proceeded to move forward, settling down onto one of the many floor cushions and just watching the armored man do a tour of the room. The main area flowed naturally to the large window seat, where more hassocks were strewn. Off to the side of the entrance there was a small fresher, more for functionality than form.

He seemed larger than life in the tiny room, all hard edges and armor sheen against the soft sunset hues of the decor. You watched him run a hand around the lid of the small storage container that every room had, the man obviously checking for a wiretap or bugs of some sort. As he moved to the viewport, you seized the opportunity to administer your work-supplied dosage of Serperseus. 

The familiar, warm sensation surged through your body and you sighed, relaxing even further against the cushions. Due to the watered-down strength of Serperseus, the Medusine barrier that troubled the normal Serpentia user was absent. You were grateful for that; some of the stories you had heard were _distressing_ to say the least.

Mando turned at your noise, his posture rigid. "I need you to be blindfolded." He ordered. "Your profile said that you were alright with that, so I...I-I need..." he hesitated, and you heard him swallow audibly before he muttered out a, "please."

"Of course, sir." You inclined your head, reaching for the lid of the small container. There was a similar chest in every room, each one bearing the essentials for a multitude of drug-enhanced encounters. Blindfolds, soft restraints, and a variety of toys met your eyes, oddly comforting in their familiarity. You tugged one of the blindfolds free, smoothing the silky fabric between your fingertips. 

Mando was maintaining a suspiciously healthy distance from you, and right before you raised the blindfold to your eyes you noticed his hands clench into fists.

"W-Wait." His voice shook. "I'm not gonna' hurt you." Was he... _nervous?_

It must be a side effect of his extreme dosage amount, you rationalized. You shifted in your seat a little, startled when he knelt and a gloved hand slipped beneath your chin. You had never ministered to a Mandalorian before, and you were uncertain of what level of physicality you ought to expect. Would he stay fully-armored? No, why would he have you blindfold yourself? He must be planning to disrobe _somewhat_ , his helmet at the bare-

"Are you alright?" 

You realized you had spaced out and hurriedly nodded, cursing the Serperseus for its tendency to cause your mind to wander. "I apologize sir, Serperseus makes me a bit hazy."

"You...so you're drugged as well?"

"Yes sir, it's a requirement of the establishment in order to provide the best experience possible for our clientele."

He was silent for a moment, his gloved thumb absently sweeping the contours of your lower lip. "Pretty. _So_ pretty." It was as if he was talking to himself, the words half-whispered. "I'll turn out the lights, alright? Give me the blindfold." 

Confused by his weirdly-soft tone, you nodded slowly and handed the strip of cloth over. He knotted it behind your head, seeming to take extra care to keep from snagging anything in the fabric. How strange!

"I'm not allowed to show my face to anyone." He explained. "It's forbidden in the Creed." An ungloved hand smoothed over your head, rough fingertips tracing the shell of your left ear with a foreign gentleness. "Understand?"

You nodded. "Of course, sir."

You felt the shift in his demeanor almost directly after you heard the lights switch off. The ever-present low buzz of the illumination gave way to an almost deafening silence, broken only by the scrape of beskar against beskar and the hammering of your pulse in your ears. Blind to the world, you waited patiently for your instruction.

"First," He breathed, and you heard a sharp _click_ of metal. "I need your…breasts. Out." Obediently you unzipped your uniform to just beneath your breasts, shrugging the tight fabric off your shoulders with a little difficulty. You went to take your arms out of the sleeves, but he stopped you. "No. Just like that. Now kneel." 

You obliged, thankful for the sea of cushions and blankets that made up the floor. Your body, already sensitive from the Serperseus, lit up at the groan Mando let out. 

Large hands palmed your breasts gently. "Lubricant?" His voice rasped now.

"I-In the box, sir." You stuttered, whimpering when you were rewarded with a tweak to your left nipple.

"Good." 

There was some quiet shuffling around as you assumed he must be rummaging through the chest, before he clearly located what he sought. You felt the oily lubricant trickle from your collarbone down into the valley of your cleavage, and you couldn't help the pleasant shudder that tingled through your body.

His hands cupped your breasts and pressed them together, and then the blunt head of his cock brushed against you. "I'm going to…" he trailed off, and pushed his cock up into the waiting embrace of your breasts. You _felt_ more than heard his growl, and his dick twitched noticeably. " _Shit_ , I--" he mumbled, fucking his cock in and out of the tight space he had made. "Shit, _yes_ , so good, so pretty--" 

You whined when he dragged his thumbs back and forth over your peaks, his skin hot and slippery with the lubricant. You knew logically that it was the drugs that heightened your sensations, but it felt too good for you to ever get truly used to. 

"Need you so bad." He panted, "fuck you, make you come, make me come, _fuck_ I'm going to come--" You opened your mouth and did your best to relax. Instead of fucking your throat though, he gingerly inched the head of his cock past your lips, letting it lay heavy and throbbing on your tongue. " _Warm_ , fuck, you're so warm, oh _stars_ ," he practically whimpered, his voice cracking. " _Fuck_ , I--I need--swallow, swallow, _yesss_ -" The man seethed when you closed your lips around the head of his cock and lightly swept your tongue back and forth. " _Good_ , good, that's it, be good for me, take it all…" 

His come spilled over your tongue, unnaturally sweet from the Serpentia. You hummed, swallowing as Mando groaned overhead. 

"M...More. Need more. I need-" He sounded almost panicky, dazed. "Not enough, not enough, _shit_." 

"It won't be. A normal dosage ensures a-at least...um, at least three climaxes." You informed him, your words breaking when he fidgeted with your nipples. 

" _Three_ , I want... _forever_ ," he snarled, and you wondered dimly whether taking him on as a client had been a bad move. 

Oh well, too late now. He _had_ ponied up the credits, after all, and his chit checked out. You might just need to ask for a day off after this.

He knelt in front of you, clumsily shoving you onto your back and pushing your uniform up until it bunched at your stomach. The Mandalorian then spread your thighs, and the awed swear he muttered more than made up for his indelicate treatment. "Y-You're...you're dripping." 

You nodded dumbly, _certain_ that you were. You could feel your arousal coating your thighs. The Serperseus usually ensured such an occurrence.

The underside of Mando's cock pressed to your cunt, the man seeming to be coating himself with your body's slick. With every pass the heated flesh teased your clit, making you squirm and moan beneath him. 

"Shhh, I know, I know," Mando murmured, his motions doing anything _but_ soothe as he bore down a little harder on you. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs to steady himself and he rutted against you with single-minded intent. "Can you come like this?" He grated between his teeth. You nodded again, whimpering and tossing your head when his pace quickened. The heel of his hand was suddenly on your pubic mound, applying a pressure that threatened to send you hurtling over your edge in record time. 

You cried out breathlessly and Mando snarled, his cock throbbing noticeably against your cunt. "Yes, _yes_ -" you begged, entirely bewildered when he pulled away from you for a moment. You had been so close! You heard a strange noise and then--

_Oh_ , a tongue, _his_ tongue on your cunt! He slurped noisily at the slick folds of your labia while you did your best to stifle your cries. Your fingers dug greedily into the thick curls that _apparently_ covered his head, and he groaned when your nails scratched his scalp. You could feel him shaking slightly and _somewhere_ in your mind realized that he must be jerking himself off.

"M'gonna' come." He gasped, "can I-?"

"Whatever you want, just _please_ \--"

Fingers spread your cunt open and you felt his cock begin to penetrate you. Thank stars he was already well-lubricated! He had hardly gotten the tip of his dick past your entrance when he seized up, his hand clutching at your thigh as he came. You whimpered, the drugs in your body heightening the sensations almost to the point of pain. 

Clumsy fingers sought out your clit and he grunted, shoving against it with as much care as you had come to expect from your clients. Mercifully the stimulation was still more than acceptable and you keened out, your hands fisting in the cushions beneath you as you came. 

Recovery time was nonexistent. Your knees were hooked up over his shoulders and the Mandalorian plowed down into you, his pauldrons blessedly cool on the heated skin of your legs. After a moment or two of fumbling around underneath him, he caught your mouth in a frenzied kiss. 

"You're so fucking _pretty_ , I don't--I can't--" he panted, "how are you real?"

You barely comprehended that he was speaking, still adrift on your previous climax and feeling the second one building hot in your stomach. He knocked the breath out of your body with every thrust, his strength evident in the way he easily pinned you to the cushions. You were unsure at this point whether you could blame the Serperseus for your mental reaction to being immobilized. That is, the way you attempted to spread yourself even _wider_ for him, practically presenting yourself. 

Mando withdrew fully, and you heard the slippery sound of him fisting his cock. "Keep your legs spread," he growled, two fingers thrust inside you after a second. They sought out the soft spot on your inner walls, tormenting it with alternating strokes and taps. His thumb rolled against your clit and you whined, arching your back to press yourself into his hand. " _Look_ at you, oh look at you." He mumbled incredulously. "I'm gonna' come right on this little pussy, but not before I make you soak my hand. I know you can do it, come for me, come for me-" 

His fingers curled and his thumb pressed and you came again, your arousal surging hot between your legs. His own completion followed seconds later, leaving a heated trail that slid down the inside of your left thigh. 

"More, _more_ , shit, stars-" Mando gasped. You noticed vaguely that his voice was smoother without the vocoder in his helmet, but that realization took a back seat to the feeling of his hands settling onto your hips. "Roll over." He demanded, then paused. "Still okay?"

You nodded once more, unused to the check-ins and a little too out of it to truly question why they confused you so much. You flopped over onto your side, but before you could move to your stomach his hand was on your uniform zipper.

"Can I?"

"Of course, sir."

He nearly snapped the zipper in half before he managed to peel the uniform off. You continued with your original plan, rolling to your stomach and pillowing your head on your crossed arms. 

You didn't expect his hands on your shoulders. You had expected…

His thumbs dug in to the tense areas on either side of your spine and he muttered, " _relax_ …" in your ear. You muffled your whimper with the cushions beneath you, uncertain of his intent. But it felt _so good_ …

His cock throbbed at your cunt and yet Mando made no move to sheathe himself immediately, instead simply rubbing the knots out of your shoulders and neck. Back and forth he caressed, knuckling into some of the more stubborn areas with a strangely-gentle finesse. It was...wonderful.

…

_Oh_ , you were pretty.

So pretty. 

He felt drunk. His cock _ached_ , but...but you were so _pretty_ . Din wanted to take care of you like how you were taking care of him. For pay, of course, for pay, but you were _helping_. 

He had never been able to afford _pretty_ . Recently he had decent luck on bounties and even still, he was relatively certain whatever hold had been put on his chit would drain his Guild account. Stars, he had barely been able to afford _clean_ the few times his hand hadn't been enough to take the edge off.

But you were so pretty. Soft and warm, comforting. Maybe that was the drugs talking. He hated that you were expected to take something as well. Inorganic pleasure force-fed to you until you were hazy and submissive, _a requirement of the establishment in order to provide the best experience possible for our clientele_. 

At least the strength of the dousing he had gotten appeared to be able to keep his self-loathing to the barest of minimums. He could hate himself later for indulging in this weakness. 

He had never been called 'sir' before.

"I'm going to...just relax, alright?" Din said softly once he couldn't fend off the demanding urge any longer, teasing your pussy with his cock. You arched your back, blindly reaching around in the twilight of the room to take his free hand. 

Din's heart pounding in his chest had nothing to do with his state of heightened arousal and he knew it.

The Mandalorian buried himself to the hilt in your hot, pliant body, unable to keep from snarling when he felt the mixture of your arousal and his own slip out around his cock. "So sweet, _pretty_ ." Stars, was that _really_ all he could manage? His Basic had never been particularly _stellar_ , but this was just embarrassing. 

You pitched beneath him with more energy than he had anticipated, rocking back against his armored form. You were nearly silent aside from your whimpers and Din was sure those soft sounds would haunt him. He eased you down to the cushions instead of pinning you now, just letting the bulk of his armor do most of the work until you were prone. 

His brain had gone absolutely _stupid_ at this point, a combination of the drug and the giddy sensation of being without his helmet. He swore he could feel his cock bottoming out in you, like he had hit your body's limits and was nudging pointedly against them with every thrust. He wasn't sure whether _that_ was the Serpentia as well.

Din planted a hand on either side of your body, looking down to watch his cock plunge into you again and again. " _Fuck_ , so pretty, so good-" he slurred, desperately trying to keep his mind clear. A few more times, for certain. Just a few more times, and then he could get back to work.

_A few more times_ , and his dick throbbed like it had a mind of its own. _Yes!_ _More!_ Din groaned, his forehead landing between your shoulders as he came again. You bucked beneath him, a breathless little wail wrung out of you in response to his orgasm. 

"So good…" The Mandalorian sighed, withdrawing from your cunt and then thrusting his dick lower between your thighs almost absently. _Oh_ , stars, even the play-fucking felt _incredible_ . "Roll back over for me?" He requested raggedly. This was _much_ more talking than he was used to.

You obliged him readily, the blindfold still firmly in place, and Din put both of your legs over his right shoulder.

"I'm just gonna' fuck your thighs for a minute. Give you a break." He tried to joke, but the forced laughter died on his lips when you pressed your thighs together even tighter like you had been _expecting_ this. Din found himself a little more breathless. 

He rutted his cock back and forth between your thighs, that little bit of stimulation already threatening to have him close to coming. The Mandalorian reached down then, wedging his hand into the cradle of your pelvis so he could rub your clit again.

You cried out, covering your mouth and clinging to his hand. You were begging, _pleading_ for him to make you come, your voice breaking with the weight of your own need. Din had never felt more powerful in all his life as he held the promise of your pleasure at the tips of his fingers, and he didn't even have to fuck you to do so.

The galaxy was odd that way.

"You close? Y'so pretty like this." He practically _purred_ , all smug confidence now when it didn't even _matter_. "I bet this would be even better if we were sober." Your reply was muted by your own hand, as if you didn't want anyone to hear you. Din pried your fingers away from your mouth, pressing kisses to your knuckles instead. "You don't need to say anything." He assured you placidly, feeling your cunt twitch beneath his touch. "I'll fuck you again, it'll be fine."

"Stars, _yes, please_ , fuck me!" You begged, your nails digging into his hand. "Fuck me, please!"

_Please_. 

"Move." He barked, making a sharp gesture to indicate the direction. You obeyed seamlessly and he wanted to be angry with himself for ordering you around, but _not yet not yet_ . "Get up here." He continued, slapping his cuisses. "In my lap, _now_." 

Zero hesitation. You climbed into his lap like you belonged there, your arms twining around his neck like _you_ were the vine that damn fruit grew on. Din filled his hands with your soft, tender body, rubbing his dick against the skin of your stomach to tease himself. You buried your face in his shoulder as you rose up, the Mandalorian positioning his cock so you could settle down comfortably.

The moan you let out had Din gritting his teeth, your voice deafening him to everything but your wants, your desires. You needed this. _You needed this_ . "I know, I know." He tried to soothe you, feeling you spasm and quake on his dick. "Got just what you need, Mando's got you, beautiful." The pet name slipped out unintentionally, but it fit all the same. You were so far removed from what he was used to, from what he _deserved_ , you might as well be a figment of his imagination. "I'll take care of you, alright? Just sink onto me…"

…

_Stars_ , you were achy.

Your entire body felt tender, every muscle pleading for pity from gravity and life itself.

The previous night (and long into the morning, if you were to be honest with yourself) had been...an experience. While always tinged with the orange-yellow haze of Serperseus, your memories were still clear. That Mandalorian had _more_ than gotten his credits worth, but he also gave as good as he got.

You stretched your arms over your head, wondering whether he was still present. Maybe you could coax him into a freebie before he departed. He _had_ expressed interest in a sober experience, after all…

But no, he seemed to have left while you were still asleep. The only indication of his presence was a glass of water resting on a tray beside you, the liquid looking like ambrosia from the gods to your parched body. 

Once you had downed the glass however, you realized that a scrap of paper had been folded beneath it. The writing was a bit smudged from the condensation, and it was difficult to make out. The only words you could actually discern were _Nevarro_ and _back_ , which did you remarkable little good. 

Nevarro? What was that? It was capitalized. Maybe a system? A person? A ship, possibly?

You groaned, still a little too tired to really dedicate much brain power to unraveling the note's mystery. 

You ended up tucking it into the pocket of your uniform as an afterthought. It eventually found its way into your smallclothes drawer, where it resided comfortably between several pairs of stockings.

_Have to go. Nevarro. I'll be back_.


End file.
